


Hail Mary pass 'cause you know I'll grab it

by emberlift_alley



Series: Viktor is hot you guys are just mean [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Grinding, M/M, PWP, hot for augments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 23:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emberlift_alley/pseuds/emberlift_alley
Summary: Adore you to the grave and farther.





	Hail Mary pass 'cause you know I'll grab it

**Author's Note:**

> This one does get fairly explicit and is nsfw. If you're a minor reading this, please close the tab right now.
> 
> The long awaited sequel to [Blame it on me.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494814) AKA what if jayce horny 2: electric boogaloo now with a real summary.

It’s been 34 days since Viktor’s last attack, if Jayce can even call it that. It would be quite disingenuous of him, considering that it had been the closest to coming in his pants that Jayce had gotten since he was fifteen. Thinking about it was embarrassing, the first few days. The first week. The sting had started to fade, though, and remembering only made Jayce dizzy with longing. He yearned. He craved.

And about this, he couldn’t talk to Vi.

Or rather, he could but he refused to. Having a juvenile sort of crush on the man who was, as far as he knew, actively trying to kill him wasn’t going to get any better with Vi nagging him about it. It would get exponentially worse. So he kept to himself and if he sometimes had to stop working and try to calm himself down enough to be able to do basic math again, that was only for him to know.

He’d be happy not having to know, as it makes the possibility of smashing his hand to smithereens with a hammer a very real probability when he’s working in the middle of the night, but he knows all the same. Jayce has been cursed with knowledge for as long as he can remember. This is of the horny variety, he can live with it.

“I can live with it,” he says, out loud, as he narrowly avoids his own thumb trying to nail a pipe to a self-sufficient engine. “I can and I will.”

“You can and you will what,” Viktor answers, and Jayce jumps and the hammer hits the workbench with far more force than necessary. He looks up, disappointed but not surprised at himself for having come to a point in his life in which he hallucinates Viktor’s voice, and finds the man himself standing tall a few feet from his workbench, at the other side, in full armor.

His hand twitches, the rational part of him urging him to reach for his hammer. The combat one. It’s the right thing to do, turn around and grab it and maybe blast Viktor down to nothing or smash him to a pulp. Yet, at the same time his whole being refuses the idea and screams at him to get closer to Viktor as soon as possible. Terrifyingly close, under the skin close. He catches himself walking his way and stops dead, grimacing at himself. Viktor stays right where he is, still frustratingly far, and says nothing at all. 

“None of your business,” he quips, and it feels childish even to himself but who is going to judge him. Viktor? Viktor can take his criticism and shove it. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Viktor doesn’t answer straight away. He steps towards Jayce and Jayce regrets not having reached for his hammer. Viktor stops in front of him, and Jayce tries to distract himself by dissecting the parts of his augmented leg. Thigh plates cinched together and connected to the knee. It looks simple but it’s intricate enough to make Jayce’s eyes snap back to Viktor’s mask, his skin prickling.

“I wonder,” Viktor says, and for a second Jayce doesn’t even know what he’s answering to. Then he cocks his head to the side and Jayce snaps back to it, which doesn’t make it any better. The way he talks makes Jayce weak in the knees because it’s so casual, so matter of fact, that one would’ve never guessed that they’ve spent a considerable amount of time trying to kill each other.

Jayce licks his lips. “Do you?” he whispers. Viktor doesn’t move, but Jayce can feel his stare behind the mask. He’s aware of his own sweaty hands hanging loosely at his sides, of the quiver in his own breathing. And what did Viktor even have to do? Show up? Mortified, he looks down at Viktor’s torso and swallows when his eyes fall on the crevices between Viktor’s steel plating.

“Jayce,” Viktor calls, and Jayce is stubborn enough to keep digging his own grave and let his eyes wander instead of looking up. He wonders how it would feel, getting to dig around Viktor’s steel. His fingers itch. “What do you want?”

Jayce is vaguely annoyed at Viktor asking when he knows the answer. Has known, probably, since Jayce has seen him standing there and his whole body has gone taut with longing. Since last time, when Jayce got so into his space that Viktor had to physically restrain him to get him out. So fuck him, and fuck that, and fuck the shiver running up Jayce’s spine when the combination of fuck and Viktor share a parcel of his mind.

“Fuck you,” he says, taking a vindictive sort of pride in the way Viktor’s shoulders twitch minutely. “You know what I want.”

Jayce waves a hand, gesturing vaguely in Viktor’s direction. Viktor hums.

“I do?”

Jayce has had enough. If Viktor has come to his laboratory in the wee hours of the night to be a frustrating bastard, then Jayce might as well kick his ass out and have a quick wank in the peace and quiet of his own bathroom. Not like he’s thrilled by the thought when Viktor is there, gorgeous and imposing and so close the steel is making Jayce himself feel chilly, but he will do what he has to do.

“Viktor,” he means to say it as a warning, low and terse, but it comes out like a plea and he hates himself for that but done is done. He’s already standing there, in front of Viktor, half hard and mesmerized by the plains and angles of his mechanized torso. Viktor sighs, steps into Jayce’s space and Jayce closes his eyes for a second, and breathes in. Opens his eyes when he can feel the steel of Viktor’s torso through his own shirt.

Viktor doesn’t ask again. He grabs Jayce’s wrists and drops his hands on his own shoulders. Jayce’s fingers twitch once. Twice. He presses his thumbs against steel and fabric and a whine catches in his throat. Jayce looks down, once more, at the crevices and wonders if he should. If he could.

Jayce drags his hands down and one of Viktor’s own rests on his waist. He finds the space between where Viktor’s ribs and his waist would be and follows the line towards his chest, and then there’s nothing and Jayce stares at his fingers and swallows as they dip between the plating. Viktor tugs on his waist, dragging him closer and Jayce drops his forehead on his shoulder. He feels sweaty, hot, and impossibly big for his skin as his fingers wander inside Viktor’s armor. He knows that it is that now because he could only go so far inside before he found resistance. Something solid, soft, warm, fabric.

Viktor’s breathing is heavy and Jayce bites his lip, his hips jerking and finding Viktor’s thigh. He thinks about the plating. He looks down at it, between his legs. Jayce moans, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut, and he grabs onto the metallic cinch on Viktor’s thigh with his free hand, using it to hitch his leg up. Viktor’s fingers dig into his skin at his waist and Jayce pants, pressing down harder. His other hand keeps roaming under Viktor’s armor, searching. He grabs onto the edges of it and tugs. He tries to get all his fingers inside until it hurts. He caresses as much of Viktor’s body under it as he can.

Jayce ruts against Viktor’s thigh, way beyond shame, groaning when he realizes that the only reason why they aren’t on the floor is that Viktor’s keeping them up and his augmented arm is holding Jayce against his body. He lifts his head, looking for Viktor’s face and finds cold steel. Jayce looks for his neck instead and bites down, covered in black cloth as it is. Viktor’s breathing stutters and Jayce’s hips do too, grounding down on his leg as his hand tugs it even higher. Closer. As close as he himself is, and he should feel embarrassed by it but Viktor hitches his leg up on his own volition and Jayce bites his lip to avoid crying out.

Viktor shifts and his plating does with him, pinching Jayce’s fingers and he sucks in a breath, grinding down as he does end up coming in his pants grabbing at Viktor’s leg and clawing at the bit of his human torso he can reach. Viktor holds him, silent, unmovable, and Jayce has a blissful moment of absolute peace in which he can indulge in not thinking at all, in the proximity and the heat of his own body heating up Viktor’s steel. Jayce breathes during that moment; forehead still pressed against Viktor’s shoulder, and drops his leg slowly. Reluctantly. It takes a bit longer for him to give up on exploring what lays behind Viktor’s plating, fascinated as he is in ways that transcend getting off to the feeling of human flesh hiding under metal. It’s the artistry of it, is what he thinks sticking to Viktor in the afterglow, the mechanical genius of it all. The intricacy and the mastery necessary to pull something like that off, being that Jayce is starting to ponder on whether or not there’s any part of that armor that’s welded to Viktor’s body.

“Jayce,” Viktor says, low and half breathless, and Jayce sighs and closes his eyes. “Jayce.”

His voice is firmer, and louder. It makes Jayce shiver, and he’s quite impressed to still have the energy.

Slowly, he peels himself off Viktor and he knows, objectively, that it isn’t the worst feeling in the world. He has burned himself while welding enough times to be sure of that. But it comes close. The feeling of loss is instant and dizzying in its intensity, even though Viktor himself hasn’t moved beyond planting both his feet on the ground.

“Viktor,” he answers, and his voice comes out steadier than expected even though he shocks himself by being remarkably stupid in the next beat. “Please.”

Please what, if only he knew. Viktor doesn’t react. He seems awfully composed and it pisses Jayce off, which doesn’t mix well with the general discomfort of drying cum. Jayce grimaces, and Viktor sighs.

“Yes,” he answers, and Jayce has no idea what he means. “I do know what you want.”

Jayce waves a hand in the direction of his crotch, crude but as effective a method as any. Viktor huffs.

“Are you sure? I mean, this might have been somewhat ambiguous as to what my intentions and desires are,” he says, and Viktor adjusts his cape and does a so-so job of pretending that he isn’t listening to him. “Want me to write it down for you?”

Viktor pats his neck with his metallic hand, which does an embarrassingly good and fast job at shutting him up. He leans down, touching his masked forehead to Jayce's and Jayce can hear him inhale, exhale, and the fingers on his neck tighten and then let go entirely as Viktor leans back.

“You know where to find me.”

Viktor brushes past him and leaves, doesn’t give him a chance to answer. Jayce stares at the door, then down at the tiny bruise on his hand where Viktor's plating bit at his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> well behaved bottoms rarely make history
> 
> title and summary from savior by st vincent


End file.
